Chess
by Shadow Griffin
Summary: Donatello was the uncontested master of chess, he could beat anyone who challenged him. Off the board, in light of their recent trials, Leo hands Donnie his first defeat. 2k14 movie 'verse


I haven't written so much in so long, but I'm quite enjoying it. Here is my second attempt at the TMNT universe – this is in the base of the 2014 movie, set in the aftermath.

Summary: Donnie had always won every game of chess, regardless of whom he faced. Off the board, in light of recent events, Leo had a bit of an unfair advantage.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Outside of this little thingy's plot. Kk? :)

Please read and review all. I'm trying to pin down Donatello like I was able to do with Ahsoka, though he seems to be far more complex. Any ideas or suggestions are absolutely welcome. I'm quite enjoying my non-writer's block. No flames. At all.

Happy writing,

~Eliana

**IOIOIOIOIOI**

"What is it Don, what's wrong?"

The question hardly had the edge to cut through any of the mental fog, or walls, that had been thrown up in defense of the sharp mind in question. It was mainly his older brother's presence that had made Donatello pick his head up more, straighten his shoulders, tense his neck, everything but move his arms that were crossed and resting limply in front of him on the metal table or move his barely-focusing eyes from where they had become mesmerized by the simplicity of the steam dancing wondrously into the air from the mug of coffee in front of him. Of course he understood every possible thing about the evaporated water that he focused on – why it was happening, what it was, what reaction was responsible for it, it's purpose within the laws of thermodynamics and chemistry – yet it was oddly intriguing enough that his overworked mind at this very moment could focus on nothing else but the steam. Leonardo had wandered in over a minute ago and had stood, curiously but silently, watching his younger brother where he sat at the table.

Until that question there had been no break in the silence for which Donatello was overwhelmingly grateful. The older of the two had stood quietly, completely unaware of his brother's mental defenses jumping and reinforcing just with him entering the room, simply observing with a softened stare at what state his fellow turtle was in. Never, not even since they were barely able to walk, had Leonardo seen his little brother look so... depleted, he assumed the best word would be. The last week had been tough on them all, of course it had who wouldn't be wiped out after all they had been forced to endure mentally and physically? They had returned to their old home only a couple days ago... or what was left of it.

Himself, Raphael, and Michelangelo had made surprisingly quick work of the large blocks of rubble and had reinforced their walls, taking shifts in sleeping off the effects of their unnatural adrenaline highs and the hothead's major injuries. It hadn't been truly noticed (Leo told himself that he was to blame) how their most intelligent brother had, yet again, managed to dodge their protective eyes and had obviously not slept a wink since their return to their home – of course, the logical side of him told him that it was a necessary sacrifice. He could see how Donnie could get confused.

Not a single one of them outside his purple-wearing brother understood the first thing about their security systems, the electricity, the plumbing, the heat and air, the running water, none of it. Perhaps the best they could do without him was build a wall of stone and hope no one happened upon it. In two days Don had practically restored everything but the central fan vents and their wiring – and if it hadn't been for a little slip-up on his part Leo would never had gotten his hands on what was cradled in one palm right now. The genius would never openly admit to anything unless it came to getting out of a situation or encouraging his brothers – the closest the oldest brother had ever heard to a complaint from his shy sibling was the admission of discomfort in the Ha'shi, and that was always spoken with the intention of steadying all of them. If Leonardo couldn't get him to understand that he needed to talk when things got like this by coaxing him, he would have to force him. Getting Don to open up reminded him so much of the game only his brother understood – blasted chess – but off the board, the blue-banded mutant had the high ground and the ultimate advantage.

It took a good minute of patient waiting on Leo's part to get an answer, and when it came it was so falsely masked in strength that it made his shoulders tense just hearing a hint of what his brother was feeling.

"What makes you believe anything's wrong, Leo?"

There he went again. His little brother was playing his very well-shaped dodge card to bow his way out of the confrontation. This time, Leo saw it coming. With a couple strides forward he was only an inch away from his brother's seat, close enough to hold up the piece of machinery in two fingers before placing down right in front of the genius. Donnie suddenly wanted to slap himself.

"C'mon Donnie, even I know this isn't right," Leo pressed calmly, gesturing to the melted disaster of what should have been a motherboard and cable connections.

Instead, somehow or another, the wires had all been soldered together right above the motherboard leading to an absolute dead-end, though the creative connection did give it an artistic appeal. When had he done that? Not even Donatello knew that answer for sure. He had done so much welding, so much wiring, made so many wifi connections, internal interfacings, quantum encryptions, and sensor-placings in the last two days that his hands throbbed in evidence, the new impressive collection of small burns and welts serving as proof that he had worked his shell off to do it in two days. He drew in a calming breath, closing his eyes.

"You've been sitting here for twenty minutes now with this blank stare on your face. You haven't spilled out any random facts or useless knowledge, you're welding things wrong, you're just staring off into your coffee. Talk to me. What's wrong?"

He knew exactly what was wrong – call it brotherly instincts. He seemed to be the only one out of the collection of three non-braniacs that would catch on after a while that something was wrong with his dear genius brother. He knew what was wrong and he wanted it rectified, but he had to spoon-feed it to Donnie.

"Everything's taking longer than I thought. The charges set off by the Foot Clan soldiers caused irreparable damage to the security system, I had to reinstall almost all the drivers and recode my entire system just to get the electrical system back up, then I had to lay more ground wires to get the security feed up, new drivers, re-connect old cables, solder together things that I never thought I would have to."

Now his weakening eyes were glued to the motherboard. The longer he stared at it, the more he could honestly not remember what its purpose was. It obviously belonged somewhere, it was the central control (or used to be) for something, and now whatever that something was would have to be found and completely disassembled in order to be reassembled correctly so that it would work. He had succeeded in his main objectives – they were safe with his system for now and they could at least all take a shower and heat some food, but what he told his brother was no lie. It had taken much longer than he had anticipated, it had depleted what energy he had been rationing out to make it to this point and he was feeling it now.

The total weight of his tech pack, eagle eyes (he loved his visionary equipment), navigator, and leather sideskirts was exactly thirty-four point eight six pounds. His staff alone was nine point four two, so in all actuality all of his tech didn't weigh that much... yet it seemed that it was pulling him straight to the floor. Had gravity increased suddenly? He could feel the steely blue eyes stabbing right into him, watching his every muscle twinge, and quickly went to change the subject.

"Master Splinter is making remarkable progress. He should be back to normal within a couple week's time – the mutagen did so much more for him than any number of blood transfusions could ever have accomplished."

"You've done an excellent job, little brother," Leo spoke calmly, his voice even as he leaned forward enough to press against the side of the table to try and gain his brother's eyes, "I'm sure he's going to make a full recovery thanks to you – we all are. We're going to recover, we're all getting better, and we're safe and comfortable thanks to you."

His younger brother was very stubborn. His eyes, looking enlarged by his glasses, were still pinned on the oddly soldered motherboard and he hadn't even spared Leo a glance. He had to force his brother's hand, that much was becoming obvious. He understood what Donnie had tried to explain to him many times about the strategic art of the game of chess – see your opponent's move before they made it. Leo had this all figured out. He would win. He moved his knight.

"With all due respect Donnie, you still haven't answered my question. What's wrong?"

The olive green throat shifted when its owner swallowed harshly. There was no other motion from the younger of the two, his eyes unwavering and determined not to meet his brother's at all – that was Leo's one attack against Don's walls. He was empathetic. He could say things, but the looks he would fix his brothers with, that he could stare straight into the depths of their souls with, was more than enough to break any stubborn streak.

"Not gonna answer, hmm? Maybe I should give it a try?" He was looking for a physical response. He got none. "I think..."

He grunted as he crouched, his knees still sore from overuse over the last week.

"I think you're exhausted because you obviously haven't slept since we got back – don't think its gone unnoticed that you're trying not to nod out right now. You haven't eaten so I'm sure your blood sugar is crashing if it hasn't already – yes, I noticed that too and don't think it's going to go unresolved. You're in need of some bandages for your hands because you have a good score of new scars there, your nerves are frayed because you're so overworked and under rested that you just want to curl up and sleep... and from the looks of things you need to have a good talk with someone to share your thoughts with. You need to talk. Am I close?"

Of course he was, he was dead on accurate but Donnie would never just hand him that so simply. His lifted his head enough to wake up, still refusing to look at his brother.

"I'm talking to you right now, Leo."

"No, don't go there Donnie," he chastised strongly, "You know very well you're not – you're speaking but you aren't talking. You aren't telling me what's going on in that genius mind of yours, and maybe it's not me that you'll choose to talk to, but it's obviously that you don't feel good right now. I can tell just by looking at you."

He knew right then that he had finally won this round when the exhausted eyes turned upward to meet his and he trapped his brother in his gaze, wearing him down with his unwavering stare.

"Right?"

Three seconds later the eyes lowered and all Leo got in response was a bob of the tired head. His younger brother had conceded defeat – and Leo worried slightly over just how easy the victory had been. He wasn't complaining... but it only went as justification.

"So," he stated strongly, standing back to his full height and crossing over to the restored cabinets and pulling one open to grab a box that was sitting inside, "I'm going to make you some ramen and you're going to eat it. Then I'm going to bandage your hands and put you to bed. Everything else can wait."

He could almost physically hear Donnie's mouth open to complain, but he cut it off before it could start.

"Don't argue, little brother. If you won't eat I think it won't be hard to convince Raph to hold you still so I can force feed you and he'll probably volunteer to carry you to bed. If you promise to do this without a fight I won't tell him about you refusing to eat or sleep or take care of yourself yet again. Deal?"

He looked to the genius long enough to see his dejected nod, and turned away with a grin plastered to his face. He cast a fleeting glimpse at his crossed fingers. Checkmate.

**IOIOIOIOIOI**

Mayhaps I should try to do a ficlet of Raph and Don next. All of their relationships are so complex, they are a true joy to write.

Thank you all in advance for the reviews and advice and suggestions. It's all greatly appreciated. :)

Happy Writing,

~Eliana


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